


From the Silence of the Deep

by elistaire



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Community: spook_me, Gen, submarine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-27
Updated: 2011-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-25 00:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elistaire/pseuds/elistaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on the submarine, Emma discovers that her mutant abilities have another edge to them, altogether.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Silence of the Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the spook_me challenge, 2011.
> 
> [Link to the prompt](http://i879.photobucket.com/albums/ab353/spook_me/Spook%20Me%20Science%20Fiction%20Covers/SpookMe30.jpg)

“Emma, would you call Azazel?” Sebastian Shaw was frowning full force at the television set in the wall of the submarine. “The reception is poor. We’ll need him to pick up another receiver.”

“Of course,” Emma said. She shifted into her diamond form and whistled.

A moment later Azazel appeared, giving off black and red smoke and foul fumes. “Yes, Comrades?” he asked.

“Bad reception,” Emma said with a twist of her head to indicate the malfunctioning television.

Azazel nodded and vanished in a puff of color and smell.

Shaw clapped his hands together. “In the meantime, we can talk about--”

There was a low rumble and the submarine gave a shudder.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know,” Emma said. She scanned the immediate area, but other than her teammates on the submarine, there was no one out there. “Riptide is very concerned about the hull pressure.”

“Hull pressure?”

“He says it is increasing at an alarming rate.”

Shaw gave her a hard look and then started moving through the submarine toward the hatch. Another low groan of protesting metal rippled through the sides, as if the seams were being twisted. Riptide was busy flying from one control to another, making adjustments, and bringing the submarine to the surface.

“Not little Erik again,” Shaw muttered as he pulled down the ladder and started up toward the hatch.

“I doubt it. I don’t sense him.”

Riptide gave a hand signal, to show they had surfaced and Shaw popped up through the hatch. He started laughing, but it was a near-maniacal, this-can’t-be-good sort of laugh.

“Very good, Emma,” he said. “Most excellent! I believe you can call sea monsters as well as Azazel with that dog-whistle of yours.”

Emma frowned and used her telepathy to see out of Shaw’s eyes. Good grief. There were _three_ monsters attacking them. Their hides were rubbery and scaly, in glistening shades of green and red and gray. Their mouths were full of teeth, perched atop long, thick necks, and they were enormous. A person could be swallowed whole into their gaping mouths.

One even had voracious tentacles wrapped around the hull, squeezing. The others were thrashing and stabbing, trying to take large chunks out with their razor sharp maws. The submarine rolled, threatening to tip over entirely, as the monsters sank their weight into their efforts. The sea was rough, swells of cold water lashing over the sides and streaming back, foam and salt spray were everywhere.

Emma resented the implication that it had been her whistle. It could just as well have been vibrations from the giant rotor. Or bad luck to travel through the spot where the monsters lurked. She scanned to assess the monsters’ mental capabilities, but their brains were so underdeveloped that there was nothing for her to latch onto. Their drive was only to attack, destroy, and devour.

“Suggestions?” she asked.

Shaw slid down the ladder, a foot to each side of the rungs. “I think this would be a perfect time for Riptide to show off his skills. Riptide, I’ll take over the controls.”

Riptide gave a noble bow of his head and then switched places with Shaw.

“No mercy,” Emma told him. She switched her mental vision from Shaw to Riptide, and kept an eye on the proceedings. “Those things are hungry.”

Riptide climbed up and stood at the top of the hatch, looking like an angered demigod in his suit and stoic demeanor, and started swirling the air with his hands. Swinging his arms like he was pitching baseballs, tornadoes were tossed at each of the monsters. The monsters were flung away, and then came swimming right back. Riptide frowned and repeated his performance, creating even more devastating whirlwinds. Again, the monsters were shucked away, howling in rage, and then they returned again. The submarine creaked and groaned, still under pressure. High pitched whining and the incessant strain of metal filled the interior control cabin.

“It’s not working,” Emma related to Shaw. “The whirlwinds just dislodge them, they’re too large to be hurt.”

“Take over, then,” Shaw said. Emma turned to the controls, dismayed to see that everything was flashing red and at dangerous levels.

Shaw strode away into the belly of the submarine, headed to the nuclear source to power up.

Emma pushed the dials around, trying to keep the submarine intact. She estimated it would take at least three minutes for Shaw to absorb enough energy to repel the monsters. Not quite enough. The hull was going to be breached any moment now.

She narrowed her eyes and then abandoned her post. She tugged on Riptide’s pant cuffs and he made room for her. She clambered to the top of the ladder and looked out. Then, she became diamond, and whistled.

Not the same whistle as for Azazel, but higher and sharper. The monsters paused and then came back full force.

Riptide was slinging whirlwinds again.

Emma tried whistling at a different pitch. Then another. And finally, at a lower pitch, a flat-note, minor and brooding, suddenly the monsters stopped. Disgruntled, chuffing to themselves, they peeled away from the submarine, and slinked back down beneath the ocean water, their mottled skins fading from sight.

Emma breathed in relief. She wasn’t sure how she felt, exactly, about this new found advantage to her mutant abilities. It certainly was _distinctive_.

She and Riptide climbed down the ladder just as Shaw returned, brimming over with absorbed energy, and Emma hoped he’d discharge it _outside_ the sub. The last time he hadn’t, he’d melted an entire console and Azazel and Riptide had been months replacing it.

Just then, Azazel returned in a plume of smoke. He had a receiver box in his hands and smirked when he took in how disheveled the submarine and everyone looked. “Did something happen while I was away?” he asked.

Shaw just laughed, and gave Emma the twinkle-eyed stare of gleeful joy that he had for useful mutant abilities.

Emma put one hand on her hip and focused on Azazel. “We need to discuss a better way for me to contact you while we’re at sea,” she said. “No more whistling.”


End file.
